As always, a huge thank you to my betas jublke and StatsGrandma57 for your wonderful work; I couldn't do it without you. And another special thank you to StatsGrandma57 for making me finish the thing. There were days...

What Makes a Hero?

A StarWars Fan Fiction

"They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Naturally they became heroes."

Leia Organa of Alderaan, Princess & Senator

Chapter One

3 months ABY

"Okay! We need a power converter and a sensor pulse generator. Add them to the list." Han Solo rose halfway out of the Millennium Falcon's aft service pit. "I have no idea how we're going to afford all this," he said. "I don't suppose our new friends have any spare parts just lying around," he added sourly.

Chewbacca woofed out a tart reply, his furry eyebrows wriggling.

"Yeah, I know they haven't got much money to spare, but neither do we." Han perched himself on the edge of the pit and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. "We gotta find a way to raise some capital." He tilted his head back to look at the Wookiee. "We need paying cargo."

Han shrugged at Chewie's warbled comment. "I know it doesn't seem right to take their money, but we can't afford to keep going like this." He pushed himself to his feet. "We're gonna have to talk to Dodonna and his crew. If we can't earn enough to keep the ship going, we're going to have to leave."

Chewie bellowed indignantly.

"So, you got any better ideas?"

A shrug was the Wookiee's only reply.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Gimme the list." He dropped the greasy rag he'd been using to wipe his hands on the holotable and headed toward the ramp.

"Han!" Luke Skywalker's voice sounded from outside the ship.

"Hey, kid. What's up?" Han asked as he stepped out into the steamy heat of Yavin 4.

"I just came from the Command Center; they need you!"

Even dressed in his new Alliance uniform, Luke hadn't broken a sweat. Han wondered if he'd ever been that young and eager. If he had been, it was so long ago he couldn't remember it anymore. Or maybe he didn't want to.

"Do you know what they want?" he asked the younger man.

"Nope." Luke turned and started toward the old temple. "All I know is that Leia said I should come and get you right away."

"Whatever her Worshipfulness wants, I hope it pays well," Han said, pocketing his list as he and Chewbacca hurried down the path after Luke.

"Can't you ever do anything without asking for money?" Luke asked, his face falling into the same disapproving lines as Princess Leia Organa's did when she was dealing with the smuggler. Han wondered if they practiced the look together.

"It's a freighter, kid. That's how we earn our living: hauling freight," Han replied dryly. They entered the shadowed coolness of the Massassi temple turned rebel base, skirting around the few X-wings and Y-wings that had survived the destruction of the Death Star, plus the newer ships the Alliance had brought in to help replace the ones that had been lost during the battle.

Luke jogged up a set of steep stone steps that led to the Alliance Command Center, Han and Chewbacca trailing along behind him. The Wookiee whined a little at the pace. Han shot one sympathetic look over his shoulder at his friend as he rolled down the sleeves on his sweat-stained shirt.

"Listen, kid," he continued, "we can't keep the Falcon spaceworthy without some serious repairs, and we can't make the repairs without new parts, and we can't get the parts without some credits. So, we need a paying job," Han completed his argument as they stepped into the Center.

"Don't worry, Captain. I'm sure the Alliance can scrape together a few spare credits to pay you for your time." The princess's white skirt swirled around her ankles as she turned away from the communications console, where she'd been deep in conversation with Commander Willard.

Nope, Han realized, he was mistaken. The kid's disapproving look couldn't hold a glow rod to her Worshipfulness' expression of undisguised contempt.

"And good afternoon to you, your Highness," he said with a sneer. He found himself vaguely curious as to why she insisted on wearing her white princess dresses while she was busy fomenting rebellion. Maybe it made her feel more in charge? Han didn't see how that could be possible.

"Pardon me for wanting to keep my ship in the air," he continued. "You remember my ship, don't you, it's the one you keep wanting to use." Han smiled insolently. "Or is it that you can't find anyone else with piloting skills as good as mine?"

Luke rolled his eyes in disgust; Leia ignored the barb—and the boast. Han wondered, not for the first time, how such a tiny woman could manage to look down her nose at him, even when she was looking up.

"This is something I'm sure even your limited skills can handle," Leia taunted. "There is an individual, a research scientist, who needs to be retrieved from the Polith System."

"That's the inner rim," Han said, his mocking tone gone. "There's a lot of Imperial activity out there." His forehead furrowed. "Who is this individual and why does he need retrieving?"

"His name's Astin Kieriearn. He was doing research with bacta strains when the Empire moved in on Thyferra. He made it to a neutral moon in the system ahead of the stormtroopers, but he's not sure how long he'll be safe. They're searching for him."

"Why do the Imps want him so bad?"

"He's working on a new, easier to produce form of bacta, and the Empire wants to control the bacta supply," Willard supplied.

"If they control the bacta, they can control who gets it and who doesn't, right?" Luke asked.

"Yeah, it's good old supply and demand," Han said. He looked at the princess, his eyes narrowing. She was more worked up than usual; there was something else going on. "And what else do we need to know about this guy?" he asked her.

"He's from Alderaan."

"Where's the kid?" Han asked, peering over the princess's shoulder as she strode up the Falcon's boarding ramp.

"Luke is working with Red squadron on fortifying some of the orbiting defense satellites." Leia's eyebrows arched upwards. "Some of us are trying to defeat the Empire, not just make a profit."

"And I'm so happy for you all," Han replied to the Princess's back as she headed into the ship. He was sorry Luke wasn't coming with them. Not only was he a good fighter, but with Luke along Han would have someone to talk to when her Worshipfulness got into one of her moods—like she always did.

Leia dropped a small duffel bag on the floor next to the holotable in the Falcon's main lounge. She'd traded her customary white garments for a pair of tan slacks and a dark gray jacket. Only her shirt was white. Han found his eyes traveling from where the shirt was gathered at the Princess's trim waist up to its tighter fit across her chest. His mouth went a little dry. This new look made for a much nicer view than the princess dress. He wet his lips and turned his attention to a series of switches at the engineering station.

"Did you get your power converter and your pulse generator?" she asked him. Unexpectedly, Han could find no hint of sarcasm in the princess's inquiry.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks for getting them so fast."

"Well, we certainly wouldn't want to inconvenience you, seeing as there's such a demand for your services," she snipped.

And there it was again, Han thought, that kriffing attitude. There were times he thought he might just kill her. "Now listen here, Chewie and I were making a good living before we got involved with Luke and the old man," he began.

"Sure you were."

At that moment, Chewie appeared in the cockpit access corridor. It was time to lift off. Thank the gods!

"We're ready to go, your Worship," Han snarled. "Strap yourself in and enjoy your trip."

"Okay, Chewie, ready for the sublights on my mark…now!" Han shoved the drive levers forward and the Doppler-mottled light of hyperspace receded to the bright pinpoints of stars.

"This isn't the Polith System. Why did you bring us out of lightspeed way out here?" Princess Leia stood braced between Han and Chewbacca, a hand on the back of each of their seats. Her eyes were focused on a series of bright planetary dots circling the brighter light of a star out the starboard side of the canopy.

"This is the inner rim, your Worship." Han risked a quick glance over his shoulder at the irate princess before turning back to the front viewscreen. "Like I said before, there's always a lot of Imperial activity out here; and there might be more since you said they're looking for your boy. I figured popping out of hyperspace in the middle of an Imp search party wasn't any good for his health. Or ours," he added. "Unless you want us to lead them right to him." He turned his head to look at her again. "I figured slow and careful was our best bet."

Mollified but not chastised, Leia nodded her head in agreement. "That's a good idea," she conceded.

"That's what you keep me around for, your Highnessness," he observed smugly, "my brilliant, clear-headed thinking."

"Well, it's certainly not because of your humble, self-deprecating manner," came the quick retort.

A pleased, lop-sided grin lit the smuggler's features. He placed a hand in the middle of his chest. "Who, me?" he asked.

Leia merely shook her head.

A bark from Chewie ended the conversation. Han turned his attention forward.

"No, I don't see anything either, Chewie. Anything show up on the long range sensors?"

The Wookiee grunted in the negative.

"Good. That's good." Han checked the nav display. "I think if we slingshot around this planet here," he indicated a blip on the display, "we should be able to come in the back door and not attract any unnecessary attention to us or to the moon."

Chewie studied the display, then nodded his agreement.

"That's going to take some time," Leia observed in frustration.

"Yeah." Han agreed, flipping back to the sensor display, "but we'll get there alive."

Silence filled the cockpit. To Han, that seemed more disapproving than Leia's sniping. Finally, just to overcome the unspoken criticism, he tried conversation.

"So, do you know this guy? What's his name—Astin?"

"Kieriearn. Astin Kieriearn. Yes. Everyone on Alderaan knew him. Or knew of him." Han noted that the princess only stumbled a little when she mentioned her former homeworld. She was one tough woman, he thought, he'd give her that.

"He was, is, an amazing research biologist. He discovered treatments for several different chronic conditions. He made so many people's lives on Alderaan so much better." Leia paused now and swallowed, obviously remembering that all those people no longer existed. Chewbacca moaned sympathetically.

"And he did all this with bacta?" Han asked, hoping to move things forward.

"No, the bacta research is a new project. That's why he was on Thyferra."

"You know him," Han observed. "A friend of your family?"

"Yes." Leia's tight control broke; she actually smiled. "It will be so good to see him again!"

Han wondered how good it actually would be. He'd seen other survivors of Alderaan's destruction. They were, understandably, a solemn bunch. There was Celchu, an X-wing pilot, and that new command-type—Rieekan. Both of them seemed to be good men, and good at their jobs, but Han didn't think he'd ever seen either of them smile. Not that he blamed them; theirs must be a heavy load to carry. He'd seen Leia struggle with it sometimes, and wondered how she managed. Who knew? Maybe an old family friend would help.

"So, is he like an uncle to you?"

"What?" Leia laughed. "Oh, no, he's only a year or two older than I am. We were at school together. I was never in any classes with him, though. I could never understand what he was talking about. Very few of us did. He's an absolute genius."

Han turned away from the princess, his face troubled. "Chewie, have you picked up anything on the sensors yet?" he asked, focusing again on piloting the ship.

He didn't really listen while the Wookiee informed him that if he'd seen anything he'd surely not have kept it to himself. Han was thinking about picking up Alderaan's famed humanitarian, the boy genius, and wondering if it was the task—or the individual—that bothered him so much.